


Unexpected

by Tastethatcake



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Depression, Hammertime - Freeform, M/M, Pepsicola, Sadstuck, Suicide, johndave - Freeform, mentions of cutting, normalstuck, sorry for this omg, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 00:30:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1139312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tastethatcake/pseuds/Tastethatcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave isn't exactly who John expected him to be, but John isn't disappointed. Only surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

Dave wasn’t really how you expected him to be.

First of all, he was one of the most expressive people you have ever met, which was a superb achievement considering you have had several webcam conversations with Karkat. The thing was, Dave didn’t make faces, or even laugh. He frowned, all the time, even when making jokes or getting owned by your massive pranking skills.

It was his body that did all the talking. Despite his stoic face, he was always moving, his hands making wild gestures and his weight shifting from foot to foot. He was always animated, his back shaking with laughter even when he didn’t smile, his hands running frantically through his messy white hair even when he didn’t seem nervous.

He had braces, too, when you first met him. You threw a party when he finally got them off, revealing shiny white teeth. He still didn’t smile, though.

You were surprised when he moved to Washington. You made fun of him for that, saying that he was so homosexually attracted to you that he couldn’t resist your pull. He insisted that it was a crazy coincidence. Rose, however, told you that he had said that when his brother decided it was time to move, Dave begged him to buy a house in Washington. You hugged him hard when he got off the plane. He had smelled like cheap shampoo and bubblegum.

He went to a different high school than you, but you still compared report cards when you got them. You were surprised to find that he actually got decent grades, especially in math and gym. His worst class was music. He said that he loved writing songs, but his shitty brass and woodwind band class wasn’t really ready for the badass jams he had to share. Besides, they didn’t have any mixing equipment.

You were sort of surprised to find that he actually kind of sucks at gaming. You pretended that you expected to be able to own him, but you had to admit that with all his talk, you were kind of prepared for him to be a more challenging Call of Duty opponent. He could finish any puzzle game you threw at him in just a few hours, though, so that was cool, you guessed. You didn’t tell him that, though.

He wore those sunglasses too, all the time. When you first started hanging out with him, you teased him a lot about it and tried to pull the glasses off his faceconstantly. One time you aggravated him a little too much, because when you reached up to grab them he shoved you backwards so hard that you fell onto the pavement and scraped your elbow. He helped you up and apologized, but you still didn’t try after that.

But one time, when he wasn’t looking, you managed to stare through the shades so intensely that you could make out the shape of his eyes. You still couldn’t see the colour, but you could tell that they looked sad. He looked sad.

You were very surprised when you saw Dave changing one time at your house. He was putting on his sleep shirt, and you happened to walk by the cracked open door just as he was standing half naked with his back to you. He had long scars running up the back of his arms, criss crossing cuts pink and puckered against his pale skin. You kept walking so he wouldn’t notice you, tears coming to your eyes as you locked yourself into the bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t tell him what you saw, that night or ever, but for the next few weeks you touched his shoulder a lot and laughed a little harder than necessary at his jokes. It explained why he always wore heavy clothing, even in the summer. He claimed that it was because he was used to the Texan heat, but you knew otherwise.

It shouldn’t have surprised you when you got a call from Dave’s brother three and a half weeks later. He had told you, voice thick with tears, that Dave was dead. He killed himself. Dirk had walked into the apartment after work to find Dave hanging there on a rope, his body cold and his eyes empty. It shouldn't have surprised you, but it did anyway, and you almost passed out. He hung up and you called Rose. “John? What’s wrong?” She had asked at the sound of your crying on the otherside. You had told her the truth, and she was silent for a full minute before saying in a low, toneless voice, “I’ll call Jade and tell her. Have a rest, John. Don’t do anything stupid.” You thanked her and hung up and told your dad. He held you as you cried, tears staining his white dress shirt.

Rose and Jade flew out for the funeral. Dirk asked you to do a eulogy, but you declined. You didn’t think you had the words to describe how Dave was and what he meant to you, so Rose took him up on the offer instead. Her speech was lovely, not a single tear appearing in her eyes as she stood up in front of the small crowd of Dave’s loved ones. Jade sat beside you, and she cried through the entire ceremony. You wanted to touch her, to comfort her, to tell her it would be alright, but you couldn’t. You sat silently, your emotions so strong, weighing down on you so heavily, that you began to feel numb.

It wouldn’t be alright.

You looked down at his body, staring at Dave’s face. His corpse was dapper, wearing a black tuxedo with a record embroidered into the pocket and a red silk tie. He was holding a bouquet of white roses, and a sword was strapped to his side. Most interestingly, he wasn’t wearing his shades, and instead they were sitting in the coffin by his head. His face was relaxed, more so than you had ever seen it. But you still couldn’t see his eyes.

Instead, the only time you would ever get to see Dave’s eyes was in the picture framed by the coffin. It was him as a child, shades off and eyes revealed. He was staring into the camera with a pissed off expression, and you guessed that this was probably the only picture Dirk had of him not wearing sunglasses.

His eyes were the colour of blood.

You were surprised at yourself, because you left the funeral early. You hated yourself for that, that you couldn’t even sit through the whole thing, let alone make a simple speech. Instead, you went to the McDonalds you and Dave usually went to and bought Dave’s favourite meal and sat in the parking spot you and him always parked in. You ate in the car, turning the volume on your saddest playlist up as loud as it would go to cover up the sound of your ugly, wracking sobs. You sat for hours, even after you had shoved all your fries into your gross, dry mouth. You just sat and cried and listened to music until the sun went down.

When you went home, your dad had a package for you. Apparently Dave’s brother had dropped it off when you were out after the funeral. He said that Dave had left a suicide note, and he had requested in that note to give his phone to John, because he would know the password. The package contained the phone, and you thanked your father quietly and took it up to your room.

The password on his iPhone was a word, not a set of four numbers like most people had for passwords. You tried for fifteen minutes, typing various things that you thought were relevant to Dave. He had said that you would know what the password is, and you began to get frustrated as an hour stretched passed and you still couldn’t figure it out. 

Dave thought I would know. So it must be something that I know about that is important to him. But I’ve tried everything! Goddammit, you think to yourself, typing in random combinations of letters and numbers.

Suddenly, the phone unlocked and your eyes widened. You had put in “nic cage is fucking stupid.” It had been completely random, an act of frustration upon looking at your Con-Air poster. Why would that be Dave’s password?

Suddenly, you remember. Your last Pesterchum conversation had ended with you suggesting to watch Con-Air again at your next sleepover. Dave had replied, “Nic Cage is fucking stupid,” and you had said, “yeah, right. See you later, dweeb.”

Dave’s password was the last thing he had ever said to you.

You look at his iPhone, scrolling through his pages of apps. The only time he ever let you use this thing was when you absolutely begged him to let you play Angry Birds. His wallpaper was the picture of you, him, Rose and Jade from when you all last got together at Jade’s island over the holidays.

You open up the music app. Despite Dave’s alleged love of music, he never actually let you in on what he listened to, so you were curious. You were greeted by thousands of songs from hundreds of artists. You navigated to his playlists and scrolled down until you saw one that stuck out to you.

It was called “john’s playlist.” Your stomach twisted up with anxiety and excitement and you clumsily selected it and played the first song, jamming your ear buds into the device.

You were surprised again. It was Dave’s voice, and he was singing. He sang and rapped in song after song, his own compositions playing in the background. All you could hear was his voice, your blood was rushing so loudly in your head that you couldn't even make out the words he was saying.

Then, after six songs, the music stopped, and Dave’s voice was in your ear.

“Go to the camera roll and watch the most recent video.” Dave said, and the playlist ended. You quickly went to the camera roll and found the video.

Dave was sitting in his computer chair, the iPhone propped up on something, filming him clearly.

“Yo, John.” He said, crossing his legs leisurely. “I hate to be all cliché, but if you’re watching this, then I’m already dead. It also means that you figured out the phone password, so good job on that.” He swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “Look, dude, I’m really sorry, but... I've made the decision to off myself. I know I’m being a bit melodramatic, but I just wanted to explain myself a little before I go die.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry for what I’m about to do. Please don’t hate me for killing myself. Karkat and I have enough hate for me to cover the hate quota.” He made a sound that was like forced laughter, but it was warped by intense fear into a sound that was unlike anything you had ever heard before. “But seriously, please... I’m doing this for everyone’s good. To be honest with you... I’m a dick. I’m a huge douche, and no one deserves the misfortune of having to put up with me, especially you and bro and Jade and Rose. I’m a walking disaster, and everyone is just better without me. So please, John. Don’t be angry at me. Look, I wrote up a list of who gets however much of my stuff, and I’m leaving a lot of it to you. If you don’t want my crap, that’s fine. Just throw it out. I also left you the playlist of music I’ve made for you, so... delete that if you want. I know you've already heard it, because I know that a sentimental dumbass like you will always look at a person’s private stuff first after they die.”

Dave rubbed his hands down his face. His fear was now showing, his eyebrows creased and his lips turned downwards. “Okay, well, I would take my shades off now because I know that you were sort of interesting in my eye colour or whatever, but I really don’t want to leave you looking at my ugly ass eyes. Besides, I’m sure bro will use that one picture of me when I was eight at the funeral, so you’ll get to see them and be disgusted anyway.” He coughed dryly. “Anyway, I’m just wasting your time now, so I’m going to end this miserable video now.”

It wasn’t now until you realized that the iPhone screen had gotten all wet. You were about to wipe your eyes, but what Dave surprised you more than anything, causing you to stop moving.

“John, I’m sorry again for what I’m about to do. I just wanted to say... I love you.” Dave reached forward and the video ended with Dave’s voice echoing in your mind.

“I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes, the things sad music allow me to write


End file.
